by Emma Hart
“Way to ruin the moment.”
Giving a gentle chuckle, he kissed me again, this time more firmly. “I think it all makes total sense. I know that I want to be with you, too. Even if it means some expensive ER bills.”
“Gee, thanks. Spend all the money I intend to inherit from your death on medical bills.”
“Then I’ll buy a big roll of bubble wrap and wrap you in that instead.” He grinned, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip. “So what are you saying? Are we going to give this a shot?”
“One condition.”
“Which is?”
“If we break up, I keep my job, and you leave instead.” I winked.
Laughing, he leaned in again. His breath tickled my lips, and my heart skipped a beat as I waited for him to kiss me.
It was hard to believe that, three weeks ago, I didn’t even know this man. That our first interaction had been him helping me up from the side of the road after I’d interviewed to be his assistant, unbeknownst to us both.
It was crazy to think that he wanted me despite all my little quirks. That he embraced my natural clumsiness so much to call me ‘Hurricane.’ That it was cute and amusing to him.
It was even crazier to think that he was my boss. Nobody in the office even knew, thanks to us having the top floor. It was easy to forget that we weren’t the only two people in the building, but maybe that would make it easier.
I just had to hope that it didn’t all go to shit one day.
But the thing was, for someone who really didn’t venture outside of her comfort zone for fear of screwing things up, this felt big. Because he made me feel brave, and there was a part of me that believed this could work.
That belief only strengthened as he finally kissed me. It was deep and slow, the kind of kiss that curls your toes and sends goosebumps dancing over your arms. I reveled in it, kissing him back as my heart pounded against my ribs and an ache grew between my legs.
I clenched my thighs, and as if he felt it, he pulled back.
Cameron searched my eyes. “We’re past the three-date rule, aren’t we?”
I nodded. “And I didn’t wear matching underwear for nothing.”
“How are you with stairs?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – MALLORY
Turned out, I was not great at stairs tonight.
Halfway up, Cameron practically picked me up over his shoulder because I was taking too long. I didn’t even complain.
Like I said. I’d put on matching underwear for a reason. Women didn’t do that unless they wanted someone to see it.
I lay back on the bed. Cameron climbed over me, instantly kissing me. Heat flushed through my body as his covered mine, and I wound my fingers in the soft fabric of his shirt.
It tugged up, and I kept pulling it until it was right under his arms. He paused kissing me long enough to yank it over his head and toss it to the side.
My fingers explored his body as he kissed me, running up and down the muscles that made up his stomach and his chest. They were everywhere, and I shivered a little in delight as he deepened the kiss.
Heat pulsed through my body. I wanted him so bad. I hadn’t realized just how badly until now.
As if he could read my mind, he moved. He was so careful not to knock my foot as his mouth trailed from mine, peppering kisses over my jaw and down onto my neck. Controlling my breathing was becoming harder and harder, and his lips brushed the tender, sensitive spot below my ear.
I gasped as he moved further, curving his hands into the straps of my dress and pulling it down my body. Thank God it was stretchy and easy for him to remove.
He pulled it off and threw it to the side. His eyes raked over my body, lingering on the black lace underwear set I’d put on. Moving back to me, he ran his hands up my legs, leaving goosebumps in his wake, and kissed me once more.
I arched my back into him as I returned the kiss. His skin was hot to the touch, and I had no doubt that mine felt the same.
He returned to his exploration of my body with both his hands and his mouth. His lips were soft, his touch firm. His fingers probed every inch of my upper body, culminating with him snapping the front clasp on my bra and pushing the cups aside.
He took his time exploring those, too, with his tongue and his fingers. His tongue swirled around my nipples, one after the other, sending desire shooting right through me.
I didn’t want him to stop, but at the same time, I wanted more. I wanted to feel more because the throbbing of my clit was getting close to unbearable.
It was like he knew that, too, because he moved to the side and slid one hand between my legs. I was completely wet, so much so that he could probably move inside me right now without touching me again, but the way he moved his fingers told me that wasn’t going to happen.
I gasped and bucked my hips as his finger found my clit. He smiled against my skin, kissing back up my neck as he circled it. Once again his lips covered mine, but his hand didn’t move, except to tease and rub my clit.
I was going to come, and he knew it.
I grabbed the sheets with one hand and held his mouth to mine with the other. The pleasure quickly built inside me and slammed into me just as fast. It was a quick and furious orgasm that wracked my entire body with a series of shudders.
Cameron’s chuckle into my mouth made me blush before I realized how ridiculous that was. “That was easy.”
“Clearly you have better things to do with your mouth than talk,” I snapped back, slightly breathless.
“I do, but I’m not giving away all my secrets right now.” He dropped another kiss to my lips, dragging his teeth over my lower lip as he released me.
He reached into the nightstand, and I propped myself up on my elbows to see what he was doing.
All right, I was looking at his abs.
Still, that didn’t stop my gaze from wandering as he pulled down his pants and his boxer briefs.
And then I coughed and blushed, looking away.
His laugh was deep, and it tingled over my skin, making me shiver. I heard the rip of a condom packet, and a few seconds later, he was leaning over me again.
This time, his hand was on my good leg, lifting it to hook over his hip. His other was on the side of my head, and his lips claimed mine as he released my leg to reach between us.
The head of his hard cock moved through my wetness, making me twitch when he brushed over my sensitive clit, and slowly, pushed his way inside me.
My chest arched again, and that made his lips brush over my neck once more as my head went back. He moved so slowly, almost testing it out, easing his way into me. Each movement sent a thrill through me, making my heart beat until I didn’t think it could go any faster.
I kept one and around his neck and kissed him, then used my other hand to grab my bad leg and hold it up. He hummed his approval into my mouth and moved faster until all I could hear was the mingling of our labored breathing and the slapping of skin on skin.
I clenched, and he groaned, moving into me harder. I tilted my hips and got lost.
Lost in the movement of our bodies, in the sweat that coated my skin in a sheer sheen, in the way it felt when he kissed me as I came. He grunted as he joined me a few seconds later, and when he dropped his forehead to the bed next to my head, I let my legs fall.
He snuck one arm under my body and held me, and I wrapped mine around his neck. And we stayed like this for a few minutes, just being, just breathing, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was falling for him.
***
“Are you ever not hungry?”
I put another fry in my mouth and grinned.
Cameron shook his head and adjusted his boxer shorts. “How is it that you’re lying there with your hair looking like a bird has nested in it, no make-up, and my t-shirt while you’re eating your second dinner, and I still want to flip you over and fuck you again?”
I swallowed and reached for my wine from the nightstand. “If you do that, can you make sure
you move the food first?”
He shook his head, but I knew he was laughing. “Where do you put it?”
“The extra ten pounds on my hips,” I replied, grabbing more fries. “I eat salads for lunch. I keep a balanced diet, for the most part.”
“I’ve only ever seen you eat junk food. I’ve never seen you eat a salad.”
I shrugged. “I go out for lunch most days. There’s this great little sandwich shop just tucked away from Main Street. It’s run by this great Italian family, and as well as having the best meatball subs ever, they do awesome salads.”
“Are you sure you’re just having the salad?”
“Are you just jealous I’ve never brought you one of those subs?”
Cameron paused. “Yeah, kinda. Can we go there for lunch tomorrow?”
“I go there every day. I basically have a loyalty card. Two weeks in a row and my salad is free.” It was my turn to pause. “Do I have to get you lunch every day now?”
He laughed. “No. Why? Are you concerned we’ll spend a little too much time together?”
“It does seem like a lot.”
“We’ll be fine.” He reached over and smoothed down my crazy hair. “I’m not always in the office, am I? Like tomorrow. I have an attorney meeting in the morning and a viewing forty-five minutes away in the afternoon. We won’t see each other for most of the day.”
“What about after work?”
“Are you busy?”
“No. I’ll meet Jade for lunch.”
He shrugged and leaned over to kiss me. “There you go, then. Problem solved. Don’t overthink it, Hurricane. If you ever get sick of me, just tell me to leave you alone.”
I stared at him as I grabbed more fries. “Like I’m going to get sick of you. It’s far more likely that you’ll get fed up with me and my clumsiness than it is the other way around.”
“I can absolutely tell you that I will never find your clumsiness anything other than adorable.” He tapped my nose. “It’s a part of you, and you’d be far more boring without it.”
“Are you calling me boring?”
“That came out wrong.” He grimaced. “Wanna watch some serial killers?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re trying to distract me.”
“Is it working?”
Yes. “No.”
“Liar.”
“Shut up and put on some murder. I need some more ideas to plot yours.” I picked up a small square of the pizza in between us. “See if I can combine some to get some ideas.”
He chuckled and turned on Netflix. “Maybe I’m secretly plotting yours to stop you getting your hands on my money.”
“Nah, it’s easier if we just never get married and have kids for you.” I shrugged one shoulder. “Why go through the hassle of getting married just to murder me?”
“You’re planning the same.”
“Ah, yes, but all I have in the bank is two-hundred-and-twenty-three dollars. I bet you’re not interested in that.”
“People have killed for less. Like the guy on the episode we watched last night. That was over a hundred bucks.”
“A hundred bucks and a kilo of cocaine,” I added. “I do not have a kilo of cocaine stashed anywhere. If I did, I’d be a hell of a lot richer.”
“Or you’d mistake it for sugar and start getting me high at work.” He glanced at me with a small smile.
I wanted to deny it, but… “Yeah, probably. Ooh, put that one on.” I pointed to the tv with a fry. “I haven’t seen that yet.”
“Is this my life now? Take-out in bed with you in my t-shirt controlling the TV?” His tone was exhausted, but there was a twinkle in his eye that said he didn’t mind in the slightest if it was.
I didn’t mind, either. He’d been right—he was good at giving and orgasms. Very good.
I grinned and held up my pizza. “You bet your tight ass it is.”
EPILOGUE – CAMERON
Eighteen Months Later
“Good morning, Cynthia!” Mallory said brightly, sitting from behind her desk. “How are you?”
Cynthia Carlton removed her winter hat and gloves and shook snow from her shoulders. “Hello, darling. I’m absolutely freezing. It’s horrible out there.”
Mallory nodded. “It is. Here, come sit down, and I’ll get you a cup of coffee.”
“I got it.” I walked out from where I’d been lurking in the hall and put Mal’s coffee on her desk for her. “Two sugars, Cynthia?”
“Please, darling. Keeps me young.”
I smiled and disappeared back to the kitchen. I had no idea what she was doing here—she rarely stopped into the actual office unless she was in the middle of buying a house, and I knew I didn’t have her on the file for an appointment.
Still, I fixed her coffee and took it back out.
Mallory looked up at me with a smile. “Cynthia was just telling me that Charlotte’s pregnant.”
Ah, her eldest daughter.
“Congratulations!” I bent down to kiss Cynthia’s cheek. “That’s great news.”
“It is.” She beamed up at me. “Well, you know she got married recently to that nice fellow, Jonathan?”
I did. We’d both been there. “I remember.”
“And now with the baby and things, they’re looking for a bigger house with more of a yard because they plan on having another after this one.” She brushed some hair from her eyes and took a sip of her coffee. “Jonathan’s away in Vancouver on business, and Charlotte’s incredibly ill with sickness, so I said I’d come in and see what you’ve got.”
“What are they looking for?” I asked, walking around behind the desk and resting my hand on Mal’s shoulder as she pulled up the listings file.
“Ideally four bedrooms, preferably a study for when Jonathan works from home, and a decent sized yard.”
“Preference on bathrooms?”
“Two, but they’ll go one and a half bath if the house is right.”
I knew they would. Charlotte wasn’t nearly as fussy as her mother. “What’s their budget?”
She gave me a ballpark number, and by the time I’d opened my mouth, Mallory already had the printer running.
For someone who’d smashed two mugs emptying the dishwasher this morning, her ability to do her job always astounded me.
“Six houses,” Mal said, rolling over to the printer and almost crushing my toes in the process.
All right, so she was still rough around the edges. But it’d make a change for her to hurt me instead of herself.
As a side note, she was now banned from cleaning up any messes she’d made if the mess had sharp edges. The Band-Aid on her right hand wasn’t from a paper cut.
“Now, one is a three-bed place, but I think that’s only because there are two offices,” she said, putting the houses down in front of Cynthia. “It’s been on the market a while, but you could probably convert one back to a bedroom if you remove the shelves. Two others are four beds, and these three are five-beds, all within the price range. This one—” She pulled the bottom sheet out. “—is actually out of the budget, but only ever so slightly. We sell a lot of houses from these guys since they flip them, and they usually price a little high so they can come down.”
“Ooh, I do like that one,” Cynthia said. “I think they’re low-balling on their budget, but these all look lovely. I’ll take them to Charlotte and see what she thinks. I may have to do the first viewings if that’s okay.”
“Just give me a call, and I’ll sort it.” Mallory smiled.
Cynthia beamed at her then looked at me. “She’s going to take your job if you’re not careful, Cameron, darling.”
I sighed and leaned against Mal’s chair. “I know. I keep telling her to actually do the training, but she won’t listen to me.”
“I won’t do it because I already know what’ll happen. I’ll get my license, take someone on a viewing, and trip up the stairs or something.” She shook her head. “Nope. I’m happy here, half-assing it, where I can’t r
eally hurt myself.”
Cynthia laughed. “That is wise, darling. Besides, the two of you make a good team.”
I looked down at Mal and smiled. “We do.”
“I hear you’re finally moving in together.”
Mal nodded. “I pretty much live there already, but I still have some stuff at my parents’ house. I’m getting the rest of it this weekend.”
It was a tough spot for her. Just as she’d saved enough money to get out of her parents and get an apartment, I’d told her it was ridiculous, and she should just move in with me. She’d said it was too early, but just as she was coming around to the idea, her Grandpa had a stroke.
He and Grace were still living with their parents, and when her grandfather was really ill, Mallory had come to the decision that she couldn’t leave and let her mom take all the responsibility for caring for him.
Slowly, over the past six months, she’d spent more and more time at my place, effectively splitting her time between the two houses. Her stuff was in disarray—and so was my bathroom, thanks to her fucking hair products and girly shit.
Now, her grandpa was better and as ornery as ever, and she finally felt like she could leave.
It’d been a long and frustrating process for us all, but none other than her. There’d been a point where we’d all thought we’d lose him, but he was too damn stubborn to go. That hadn’t meant that the decision to move out had been easy for her.
She’d gone from running out of the place to insisting on staying.
I think she was finally ready, and I was prepared to buy some storage for all the fruity-smelling body washes that were in my shower.
“I’m very happy for you,” Cynthia said, tucking the property sheets into her purse. “You’ll have to have a little housewarming to celebrate, darlings.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Cynthia.” I smiled as she finished her coffee and stood, gathering her hat and her gloves. “You let us know as soon as you’re ready to take a look at some houses. We can probably get Charlotte in on a video call so she can be there, too.”
